


back to the garden/the camping trip

by sleepdrunk



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, OT3, i have no regard for continuity or canon adherence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 17:11:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18627619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepdrunk/pseuds/sleepdrunk
Summary: “Now I don’t know anything about Vulcan home comforts,” he said, bringing the pie over to their little table. “But my Pa taught me how to whip up a mean confection or two…” He set the pie down. The baking dish radiated heat and it warmed Spock’s bare skin from ten centimetres away where his bicep rested against the table. The heady, steamy scent of sweet apple and cinnamon filled his nostrils.“And I’d be remiss,” Leonard continued. His voice had gone quiet, the intimate tone teasing out his molasses drawl. “...if I didn’t try to make you feel at home.”





	back to the garden/the camping trip

**Author's Note:**

> i'm re-posting this because i enjoyed writing it. much love to my indomitable beta, but any errors are mine.

_We are stardust, we are golden, and we’ve got to get ourselves back to the garden_

 

“I just need a walk, I think. That’s all.” Leonard rose from the makeshift bed he, Jim, and Spock had made by a modest campfire. 

By the flickering glow, Spock took in his face. Soft eyes, now sunken; the skin beneath them thinned. A purple cast betrayed months of insufficient nutrition and sleep. A smattering of grey hair at his temples stood out against the black night. The roundness of youth had long since left his cat-like face, but full lips and perennial Georgia-cured tan remained. He was still close enough that he could hear Leonard swallow as a sad smile. It was a face that Spock could never cease to love.

Leonard put on his worn denim jacket and knelt to gather his knapsack. Jim stared off into space, his head resting heavily on Spock’s shoulder, arm entwined with his like a lifeline.

\---

Once, early in their arrangement, Jim had a week long errand to run at a spacedock. Len and Spock had requested brief shore leave at the same time, so they procured a hotel room at dock. Jim came back late every evening, and the other two spent the remaining time _getting acquainted,_ as Leonard had put it. 

One morning, Leonard started to talk about his home and the way he was raised, and his words carried the feel of sticky peach preserves and hot sand interspersed with soft blades of grass, red farmhouses; vast fields of green. A heat like a steam iron that no shade could hide you from. 

Spock had spoken freely too, then, when Len prompted, with a flutter of his full, black lashes and a flash of his crooked grin. They sat on their balcony, taking in the brilliant morning rise of _Helvetios_ beyond the forcefield. Len looked down at an apple he was peeling and asked Spock what it was-- what it _had_ been like on Vulcan. 

To his surprise, he answered. He spoke of pilgrimages to Mount _Salaya,_ and of cruel school children, harsh like the twin suns above them. He spoke of beautiful flowers and sand dunes. A searing warmth he feared he might never feel again. 

Before Spock had had a chance to feel shame at his candour, Len emerged from the kitchenette. He wore a canvas apron decorated with painted fruit. In one mittened hand, he held aloft an apple pie, baked entirely from scratch. Len beamed, leaning on the doorframe.

“Now I don’t know anything about Vulcan home comforts,” he said, bringing the pie over to their little table. “But my Pa taught me how to whip up a mean confection or two…” He set the pie down. The baking dish radiated heat and it warmed Spock’s bare skin from ten centimetres away where his bicep rested against the table. The heady, steamy scent of sweet apple and cinnamon filled his nostrils. 

“And I’d be remiss,” Leonard continued. His voice had gone quiet, the intimate tone teasing out his molasses drawl. “...if I didn’t try to make you feel at home.” He bent over at the waist until his face was a breath away from Spock’s, supporting himself on his with an arm draped over the table, his other hand just above Spock’s knee. His thumb soothed circles into the fat and muscle above bony prominence. 

Leonard hesitated, the air between them like static electricity. A sharp inhale, from whom it was not clear, and the tension was broken; the magnetic field satisfied. They kissed for a moment, but it was intense and hungry. Len pulled back, and Spock followed without thought. He’d moved his hand to meet Len’s on his thigh, moving slowly upward to outline the pronounced musculature. Len’s eyelids were heavy, and Spock could see his parted lips at the extremity of his vision. 

“This all right, sugar?” 

\---

“This all right, sugar?” 

Spock nodded in acquiescence. It was not the first time they had come together like this, but it felt more meaningful, somehow. Each kiss was an exploration of shared space, a relinquishing to some unseen force.

“Yes, Leonard. I-- I welcome the…” Len smiled and kissed him, grinning at the atypical…” he kissed him again. “...Advancement in our…” 

Spock ceased the search for adequate words with the last kiss. He surged up to meet Leonard, and his hands went around the backs of his thighs. He hoisted him bodily with ease, eliciting a shocked, pleased sound, muffled by their lips. Leonard wriggled for a second, testing their balance. At finding no weak point, Leonard hummed and melted into him, arms draped around his neck. He began walking toward the bedroom, thighs squeezing around Spock’s waist and ribcage. Spock made a low sound and nipped at his lower lip. He held it gently for a second and stared up at his eyes with intent, and his whole body shivered.

“ _Cher bon Dieu_ ,” he muttered against Spock’s mouth, a breathless laugh. “You were not exaggerating about that Vulcan strength.” His eyes trailed down Spock’s chest, and a hand slid down from Spock’s neck to his collarbone. “Incredible, really.” 

Spock lowered him bodily to the bed, supporting his lower back until the last. 

“My people are not prone to hyperbole, Doctor.” “Spock, you are not allowed to talk to me like we’re in Medbay when I am in this specific position,” said Leonard, his words thick through a grin. Spock felt his own eyes tighten at the corners without his say-so, and an inexorable tug on his lungs, as if they were expanding to fill with elation. “Is that-- did I just make you laugh? Or do I need to fetch my tricorder?” A lock of hair had become pulled out of place and stuck to Leonard’s forehead, so Spock used the action of tucking it back and leaning in to kiss his lips once more as an excuse to hide his face. 

The kiss was light and try as he might to suppress it, Spock smiled against Leonard’s lips. Len tipped his chin away to break the connection, looking him square in the eyes. “You can’t get away from me that easily, I cracked that stone exterior and I want to remember this moment forever.” He kissed Spock again to soften any rough edge to his quip. 

Leonard’s hand rested under Spock’s shirt, palm open against his collarbone. Something softened in his gaze. Spock tilted his head as a question. 

“You sure about this? I mean, continuing without _his nibs_ present?” 

“There are few forces in this universe, I believe, that could separate me from you now.”

\---

Jim had only been out of PT for two weeks. The camping trip in Colorado was supposed to be a time to reconcile Jim’s violent and unexpected death with his incomprehensible resurrection. 

Spock sat cross-legged, Jim weighing heavily against him. He still tired easily, though he denied it fervently, and the short hike from their hover left his limbs heavy and slow. He stayed where he was as Spock moved towards Leonard. Spock brushed Len’s cheek and cradled his head with both hands. Len’s smile widened, but his eyes were sorrowful, and he sank into the wide palm. His lids lowered, breath shaky with grief. 

“I’m sorry,” Len said, his drawl low and gravelly and soured by false levity. “I promised myself I wouldn’t get all mushy, I--” He cast his eyes around for Jim, who shuffled closer and sat next to Spock. Len sniffed a laugh at a rebellious tear that spilled down his cheek. The droplet caught the yellow firelight as it fell, leaving a little dark spot on the ancient silk sleeping bag. His heart was racing. Spock resisted calculating his heart rate based on the tremors in his jugular. 

“I don’t-- I don’t know what this is. I should leave. I should--” Spock shifted his mental shielding, with a passing thought to the absence of guilt as he did so. The rest of Leonard’s thought echoed through his mind: _I should let them have their joy, and deal with myself in silence._

“Bones--?” Jim asked. “What don’t you know? What’s wrong?” The trip was saturated in a melancholic air from the beginning, and it had pulled Jim under in his weakened state. Spock turned to look at him. His eyes were tight with fear and confusion.

“Nah,” Len tried his hardest to square his shoulders and give them a bright smile. He brushed Jim’s knee with a tentative knuckle, a wistful look in his eyes. “You need time together.” “Together? Together includes you, Bones.” A hand shot forward and clasped Bones’ hand in his, holding it to his chest. His eyes glistened with hope, the corners of his mouth turning down and distorting the final word as he forced his voice to remain clear. He came to lean on Spock again for support.

“Indeed, Leonard. We arranged this outing with the sole purpose of spending uninterrupted time together. I do not--” he stopped, struck dumb by sudden realization. Months of data, from the Khan incident through to Jim’s recovery, had gone unprocessed due to the simple fact that he had been overwhelmed. Leonard did not notice the blip, and continued. “You need time together, after--.” His glance cast over the pair. They sat melted together-- “ _like an old married couple”_ , continued the rich drawl. In flashes, Spock saw through Leonard’s eyes: he and Jim were a single mass. 

“ _Can’t tell where one begins and the other ends,”_ Leonard thought. The sentence, fully formed but un-uttered, was bitter and sharp. Yet what lay below-- It was an intensely strange, and irreconcilable emotion. In his mind’s eye, Spock caught flashes of himself and Jim together-- casual touches, Jim laughing. After a moment Spock gathered that it was Leonard himself who forced it into the understandable shape of envy and rejection. 

_“If I have to lose them, at least it’s to each other.”_

\---

Discussions in matters of the heart with the doctor reminded Spock of his late mother. Conversations with Amanda were a precious gem he thought he’d lost forever. They would talk over tea, through quiet temple halls, in her garden; or simply share the same space in silent enjoyment.

There was a shard of that comfort in Leonard. Amanda had been a sharp, compassionate human who would always insist on vulnerable honesty in emotional matters. Spock was in many ways convinced that her logic had been superior to any Vulcan, when it came to the inner workings of the mind. She frequently was able to identify variables in social equations involving profound and often conflicting emotion that he and his father were unable to see. She refused to accept the use of logic to obfuscate difficult emotions. 

That unyielding wisdom lived in Len. He could accept any difference in any given individual, but took no reasoning as acceptable for the denial of hope, faith, and charity. 

\---

Leonard was bereft, now; the comfort of his three great virtues beyond his reach.

Leonard gathered himself up and huffed out a breath. He moved out of Spock’s reach, breaking their skin connection, but the crushing grief and unprocessed shock remained. 

“You don’t need me here,” He schooled his features into something resembling firm resolve. “I know, this probably seemed like a good idea before. It was what we needed at the time but, ever since-- well. I’m not what you need.” He looked to Spock. “And darlin... the stakes have changed.”

Len began to rise, but Spock stopped him with a firm grip on his wrist. _“He must be cold,”_ thought Leonard, as he watched Spock shrug out of the camp blanket. 

Visual impressions filtered through their contact-- the impression of Spock as a spectre, looming toward him. His black clothing and hair, grown shaggy in his extended leave-- something Spock had not noticed himself-- caught little flickers of the firelight. His smooth, pale skin shone in striking contrast, the background a blanket of stars. 

Spock grasped Leonard’s hand in his, stilling his busy movements.

“Leonard.” 

Spock pulled Len to his body

After a beat, he felt Jim’s arm come around his back and fit into his side, left hand taking left. He froze for a moment, but the pressure of their bodies broke some kind of floodgate, and he began to shake. Len’s free hand came to rest at Spock’s bony hip of its own volition. Jim squeezed his shoulders tight and pressed in. He kissed the back of Spock’s hand, then Len’s sweater-clad shoulder, and rested his forehead behind the crook of Len’s back. 

“I have been remiss in my interactions with you,” Spock continued. “I was aware of your need for a tangible reminder of Jim’s well-being in the wake of his death, but-- ” Len began to shiver, uncontrollable and hard. He shook his head to say “no”.

Len inhaled too rapidly, and spoke into Spock’s sweater. “I can’t do this. I-- it just won’t go away. I keep seeing Jim’s corpse.” The images flashed through Spock’s head, nauseating and vivid. “I keep seeing you, Spock. Dead in a hundred different ways. Dead by Khan’s hands.” 

Jim huffed a breath, closing his eyes tight. He nuzzled into Leonard’s neck, comforting him rather than succumbing to the visceral trigger. He took a few deep breaths, and started to soothe Leonard’s tense neck. His hands caressed his forearm, then tucked his fingers in Len’s hand once more.

Spock slid his hands down and threaded his fingers into Len’s hair, the heels of his palms grazing stubble. He brought his strong arms down and held him tight, Jim still pressed into him from behind. Spock caught flashes through their proximity-- Leonard was warm, and relished the contrasting cool breeze through his hair, and had the distinct thought that the pressure was _“driving the demons out”._

After long minutes, the hands returned to his face. 

“I love you,” Spock said, and kissed Len’s lips. He was gentle enough, but firm and fierce.

Jim stirred behind him; swaying a little, soothing him and kissing his hair.

“I did not realize that I have been insufficiently supportive, and have made you feel that you were a lesser partner. This is simply not the case.

“I’m so sorry Bones,” Jim murmured into his neck. 

Leonard’s “what do you have to be sorry for” was muffled by Spock’s chest, but Jim heard it all the same. 

“No, Bones,” he said softly into his ear. “I’m sorry you were in so much pain, and I’m sorry I didn’t see it. That I didn’t reach out to you, no matter what was going on.” 

Jim started to slump after that, the last of his energy for the day long since used up. They sank back down into their warm haven of blankets, all soothing embraces and soft touches. With the touch of a button, Spock erected a small tent over them that resembled a cocoon, and it quickly filled with their shared body heat. 

“Bones,” Jim said, his head tucked into Leonard’s shoulder. Spock was behind Len to the other side, his bicep supporting his head. “You have to talk to me. You can be angry or hurt but please...never just leave.” He crooked his head to look up. Bones rolled a bit, supporting the awkward position with his elbow, and leaned down to kiss Jim square on the lips. Jim was fading fast, as he always did these days, but his hand gathered up a fistful of Len’s shirt and he tried to lean into the kiss. Len leaned in deeper, a hand coming to brush Jim’s ear and cup his neck. Spock shifted behind him, a hand coming to clasp Jim’s wrist. 

“Go to sleep, Darlin’. It’s all right, I’m not going anywhere.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos when this was up before. i have screenshots of every single one and i read them regularly; i cherish every last one. 
> 
> thank you for reading!


End file.
